Dreamy

Okay. So, the word confessions is in the blog title. You can't say I didn't warn you. I do love kicking things off with a disclaimer! Nearly as fab as starting off the day with sturdy coffee and a rationalization or two. Rationalizing is pro forma if cookies are on the breakfast menu. Although they weren't today. Despite the fact that I bought a bag of my fave cookies at World Market yesterday. But I digress. Here's the deal. I've been having partially naked, semi-sweaty dreams about a specific man. Probably half a dozen times over the last three months or so. A man that I happen to know, not some latent George Clooney fantasy that's resurrecting itself from the darker recesses of my brain. The thing is, I don't know that I'm actually attracted to him. Not that I couldn't be, I've just never considered him in that way. The idea is pretty darn interesting, though. I most definitely would not say no if he was to express an interest in me. Sadly, I don't see that happening. And this is one of those situations where I can't comfortably make the first move. Since you asked, yes, of course, he's younger than me. Colleen will be relieved to know that the man in question is well beyond his twenties. What is my perv brain trying to tell me? Sigh. I expect I'm overthinking this. But it was a pretty terrific naked sweaty dream.